Meaning
by wendysdarling
Summary: "A bitter taste filled my mouth as I stared at my reflection in the waters. My scarred face was an expressionless mask, hiding all that I was thinking." Sometimes, all you needed was someone to show you the way. DM/AG one-shot.


**(a/n): This is set after the Final Battle, somewhere after the final chapter of Deathly Hallows (before the epilogue). Draco and Astoria are an interesting pairing, and I find them really fun to read about. The idea for this just randomly popped up, and...here it is, haha. Enjoy!**

**Meaning**

He was dead. It was over.

The words echoed in my head, yet I couldn't wrap my mind around them. I stared blankly at the lake, unable to comprehend what I was feeling. Lost was probably a good word. Everyone else remained inside the castle, keeping close to their families and hero-worshipping Harry Potter, our saviour. Not a glance flitted my way as I slipped outside.

Somewhere in the depths of the dislike I felt for him, or the ghost of whatever spite remained, there was a sense of gratefulness. I was _glad_ he had done it. I was relieved that it was finally over. But, there was no happiness. Not for me.

A bitter taste filled my mouth as I stared at my reflection in the waters. My scarred face was an expressionless mask, hiding all that I was thinking. I touched the burns on my arms and remembered how Potter had saved me. I remembered that Crabbe was dead. At that moment, I realized that I didn't know what was going to happen next. What would become of my family? Would we ever return to a sense of normalcy? It was a laughable inquiry. My father - no doubt - was being shipped off to Azkaban at this very second and my mother was somewhere inside, attempting to plead our case.

We were lost, the three of us. Lost amongst a kind joy and grief that didn't quite apply to us.

Then I thought, I couldn't care less. Especially not for that man. He didn't bother to care about what happened to my mother and I, why should it matter to me if he was going to be spending the rest of his godforsaken days locked up? I was just a pawn, after all, ready-made to be used.

With a lump in my throat, I dug my nails into the dirt below me and spit onto the singed grass. _Bastard_.

I was alone. Completely and utterly isolated. No one gave me a second thought as I was pushed and forced to do things I didn't want to, and abused by the task that had been set out for me to do. No one noticed the irrelevant Malfoy boy in the background as I felt the prickling of the Dark Mark on my forearm, as I heard the whispers and the plans being formed. I knew exactly what they were saying and I had wanted so much to be able to run away. To get out.

Dumbledore had given me that opportunity. My nails dug further into the soil. I didn't take it.

I remembered feeling fear surge through me at the very thought of being killed. I didn't want to die, and I didn't want to see my mother die either. She was probably the only person that cared. The only person _I_ cared for.

As I sat there thinking, I realized it didn't matter to me anymore if I lived or not. Nothing else came to me as I thought of the future. What was the point of living, really, if you had nothing to live for? A pointless life was a life unfulfilled, or some bullshit along those lines. I knew no one would give me a second chance either way. To the eyes of the world, I was not a good person, and perhaps they were right. I was hated and looked down upon by all, supposedly heading the same way as my father. _Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater._ The mantra rang over and over in my head.

I don't know how long I sat there, replaying these depressing moments in my mind. I rested my head on my knees and stared, stared at the nothingness before me. Never had I felt more...useless.

"Draco Malfoy, all to his lonesomeness," a voice said, startling me.

I jumped and spun around. Squinting through the blinding sunlight, I saw the slim figure of a girl looking down at me, her honey-blonde hair fluttering around her. She came to sit down beside me and I got a closer look at her face.

There was the outline of a long, half-healed cut running along the side of her left cheek, indicating that the girl had fought as well. Her arms and hands were bruised, but they were not nearly as bad as mine. It surprised me how little damage had been inflicted upon her, how little their dark magic had scarred her body. She looked oddly familiar as well, but I couldn't place my finger on it. Above all, what stood out the most about this girl was her eyes. They were a striking greenish blue, roaming my face with a fascinated kind of open curiosity.

"You're staring, you know," she spoke quietly.

I looked away sharply, feeling my cheeks grow warm. I said nothing in return.

"It's very disorganized in there," the girl said conversationally. "Professor McGonagall is completely bewildered, and the Ministry is in a frantic mess."

"Who are you?" I blurted out abruptly, my raspy voice harsher than I expected it to be.

"Astoria Greengrass," she declared simply, looking down at her hands.

Greengrass. That explained it. I had most certainly seen her before, hovering close to her older sister, Daphne. As I examined her again, I thought, she had always been the more strange out of the pair. She had also seemed to think I was some kind of arrogant asshole, which I probably was, and openly showed that dislike as well. I didn't think she was in Slytherin either, but that didn't matter. Not really.

_Daphne Greengrass_, I pondered. I closed my eyes for a moment, my insides chilling momentarily as I recalled scurrying past her lifeless body. I blinked down at the girl before me in mild surprise. Why the fuck was she out _here_ and not with her family?

"I'm surprised they let you get out of the castle. Your father is gone, you know. They've sent him to Azkaban for the time being. You and you're mother are subjected to a hearing," she said. Her voice was not unkind, but soft. Comforting.

I stiffened at the mention of my father, giving her a hard, icy glare. She played with the hem of the clean white dress she wore, unfazed.

"It does not suit you, your act," she said after an uncomfortably long silence. "You're hurting, Malfoy. That much I can tell."

I froze again, looking away from her. Who did she think she was, pretending to care? She hardly understood.

She turned to face me with her startling eyes, one cool hand reaching out to touch my arm. I - surprisingly - didn't flinch away. "Life is meaningless only if we allow it to be. You cannot pine away your entire life, Draco. You need to give yourself a meaning," she said in a quiet, yet strong voice, her irises boring into mine in a way that made it all too impossible to look away. "You will never move on from this place without hope."

She released her grip on me and quickly looked away, tears welling up in her eyes. I realized that she was telling herself this just as much as she was telling me.

Astonished, I stared at her pale face again, curiously this time, and I wondered what it would be like to believe what she was saying. I frowned slightly and focused entirely on the words she had spoken.

She stood up, wiping her eyes with the back of her left hand. Giving me one last glance, she hurriedly walked away without another word.

My eyes trailed after her as I touched the spot where her skin had rested against mine.

She was as bizarre as I ever remembered her to be.

But she was okay.

* * *

**Disclaimer: The quote "Life is meaningless only if we allow it to be" belongs to Tom Head and J.K. Rowling is - and always will be, haha - the Queen of Harry Potter. **


End file.
